The Girly Coat
by Charis77
Summary: A manservant can't possibly wear his normal clothing to a queen's coronation, can he? Tag to "The Sword in the Stone."


**Author's Note:** I received a guest request for how Merlin received the outfit he wore to Gwen's coronation that we only see once in the series. There is, however, as was pointed out to me, a deleted scene in which the coat appears as belonging to Arthur. Enjoy!

* * *

Merlin traipsed down the hall, light on his feet, giddy with happiness. Morgana had been expelled from Camelot, Arthur had married Gwen, and a coronation loomed in one hour's time. Granted, the last few weeks had been tiring and hard, restoring what Morgana's short reign had destroyed. There had been grieving as well, mourning those laid to rest, but even so, Merlin found he couldn't be sad today, not in the face of his friends' joy.

Merlin pushed open the door to Arthur's chambers, the king's newly polished chainmail hanging over one arm. "Finished, sire?" he asked, noting the empty tub.

"Am I in the tub, Merlin?" Arthur returned from the dressing screen in a jovial, teasing tone unlike his usual condescending barbs.

"Nervous?" Merlin inquired, stepping behind the screen to find Arthur already in his trousers. He carefully lay the chainmail over a chair and proceeded to help the king dress.

"Not this time," Arthur muffled as Merlin aided the shirt over his head. He smiled broadly when his face emerged. "I've never been more certain about my love for her."

Merlin smiled back and reached for the arming coat. Then it was the chainmail. Finally, Arthur picked up his belt and shook it at Merlin.

"I've had my bath. Now you take yours."

"I've already freshened up."

"And you smell horrible."

"I did my best," Merlin protested, a bit put out. He'd been working day and night on the restoration of the citadel and sometimes lending a hand in the towns, not to mention making sure Gaius took it easy after his ordeal.

"In the tub. Now."

Merlin laughed.

"Get in there!" Arthur shouted.

Merlin backed up at his vehement, angry expression, the one he gave when he truly meant for Merlin to obey. "You can't be serious."

Arthur pushed past him into the room fiddling with his belt. Merlin followed him out and leaned over to look at the water in Arthur's tub.

"It's still warm," Arthur assured.

"But, it's your tub."

"I know, Merlin, it's an honor to bathe after the king. Stop stalling. We haven't got much time."

Merlin's cheeks flushed, and Arthur guffawed. "You're such a girl! You've bathed in front of the knights on patrols."

Merlin swallowed uneasily. "But this is _your_ bath in _your_ room."

Arthur smirked. "So, me bathing in front of you while you serve me isn't awkward, but you bathing in front of me is."

" _Yes._ "

Arthur clouted Merlin on the back. "Stop being such a prude and get in." Arthur strode away to the other side of the room to evaluate himself in a mirror as he combed his hair.

Merlin glanced between Arthur and the tub, then rolled his eyes and as quickly as he could undressed and sank into the warm water. He closed his eyes for a second. It really was quite nice, so much better than cold rivers on treks. When he opened his eyes, it was to see Arthur snatching up his clothes.

"Arthur!"

The king tossed them on the table. "You can launder those later."

Merlin almost jumped out of the bath but remembered himself and sank lower. "They're newly washed."

Arthur sniffed at them and grimaced. "I highly doubt it."

"They are!"

"You won't be wearing them anyway, not at my _wife's_ coronation."

Merlin scowled. "If you dare suggest the official ceremonial robes of Camelot—"

"No worries." Arthur stepped over to his wardrobe, withdrawing a pair of trousers and a crisp grey shirt. "Gwen made them," he commented, laying the clothing on the bed. Merlin stared. Well, if Gwen made them…

Arthur had gone back to the wardrobe. "Boots." He set them outside. Merlin pushed up in the tub momentarily to view them. They were far finer than his own and would rise up to his knee. "These are a loan."

"Mine are fine," Merlin protested.

"Not according to Guinevere. They need to go with this." Arthur swung around, holding up a long red coat, padded and fancy and his own.

Merlin stared. "Wait. Isn't that the one you've always said is too girly?"

"Yep." Arthur was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"No. I'm not going to wear that."

" _I'm_ not going to make you. Your future _queen_ has insisted you be provided something nice to wear at her coronation."

"But that?" Merlin nodded at it, his chin resting on the water in Arthur's tub.

"She thinks it complements your eyes."

Merlin paled. "You're joking."

"Not in the slightest."

"Arthur, you have to talk to her."

"I haven't the time." Arthur lay the coat on the bed as well. "I almost forgot." He picked up a blue neckerchief from a side table and dropped it on top of the coat. "The finishing touch."

"Arthur—"

"I expect you in ten minutes time." Arthur's lips curled up in one more mocking smile as he gathered up Merlin's regular clothes, marching towards the door.

"Arthur! You can't steal my clothes!"

Arthur snickered as he left, and Merlin groaned as he disappeared into the tub's waters.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Merlin found himself staring into Arthur's mirror. This was ridiculous. He looked like a mounted peacock, or worse, a pretentious noble with airs of fashion. He was uncomfortable, too, rolling his shoulders, hating the confining long coat. And the boots, too stiff and claustrophobic for his legs.

The door to the chamber opened and he turned on his heel. "Arthur, if you don't talk to…" But another head had peeked in the door. "Oh, Gwen."

His first friend in Camelot besides Gaius glided towards him, all smiles, eyes glittering, attired in a lavender dress that accentuated her delicate features. "Merlin." She looked him up and down. "You're so handsome."

He cleared his throat and joked to cover his unease. "Don't let Arthur catch you saying that."

Gwen laughed and sounded so much like the friendly peasant girl he'd met when he first arrived. "It was the least I could do." She held out her hand and Merlin took it. She squeezed tightly. "You've done so much for me. You believed me and trusted me when no one else would. And you kept me safe in Ealdor. I owe you so much more than I can ever repay."

Merlin felt chagrined. These clothes had been her gift to him, something she could do to express her gratitude. "Thank you," he spoke sincerely. "For these." He gestured down the long coat.

"I'm just sorry I couldn't make everything for you, and you had to borrow Arthur's coat and boots." She let go his hand and they moved together towards the door.

"I don't have much use for finer clothes anyway," Merlin excused. "I don't think I'll be wearing them to scrub Arthur's floors. I guess they're yours, too, now."

Gwen paused just inside the door, looking him seriously in the eye. "I know things will be different. Thinking of it scares me a little."

"He loves you, Gwen. With all his heart."

She nodded. "But I meant between me and others like us. Even if you do serve me, I don't want you to ever think yourself lower. I don't want us to stop being friends."

Merlin smiled broadly. "Never."

She pushed up on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek.

* * *

The coronation was all Merlin could hope for. He beamed as Gwen received her crown and his friends kissed, and his heart fairly burst with joy to shout, "Long live the queen!" He didn't care so much about what he wore until Arthur grabbed his arm afterwards when he made his way to the kitchens.

"You aren't serving tonight."

Merlin cocked his head. "Night off?"

"Hardly. You're sitting with the knights."

Merlin gaped. "I'm…wh—"

Arthur gripped the back of his neck to swing him around. "You don't think we're letting you serve in that getup."

"But, I _am_ a servant."

"One who's followed me to hell and back," Arthur muttered mostly under his breath, but loud enough Merlin could hear. And before he could say anything else, the king had pulled him into the banquet hall and plunked him next to Elyan at the end of a table.

"Merlin!" Gwaine raised a tankard, peering around Percival farther down the table, apparently getting a head start.

Elyan clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. "Nice clothes." Merlin fingered the laces of the fine coat, feeling exposed even though it covered most of him.

The feast was surreal and sent Merlin's head spinning. He watched everything in a daze, eating mechanically, feeling out of sorts and out of place and entirely silly in the _girly_ coat. It was even worse than wearing that big feathered hat Arthur had forced on him years ago, and he caught various nobles staring at him. His ears burned, and he wanted nothing but to escape back to his tiny room, no matter how excellent the fare and wine.

"You're Arthur's manservant. Merlin, yes?"

He looked up at a young noblewoman, fair of face, thin lips, hair braided in a circlet. "Erm, yes, my lady."

"He's being gracious to you tonight."

"I suppose."

Her eyes flicked up and down the length of his body and he shifted in his seat. "You're too good-looking to be just a servant. Tell me more about yourself."

"Eh…" He heard a laugh. Gwaine winked at him, Percival grinned, and Elyan waggled his eyebrows.

"There isn't much to tell."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a moment."

Merlin tried to relax. After all, she was beautiful. What was the harm? He started talking about the place he loved more than any on earth: Ealdor.

* * *

Arthur kissed Gwen once more, then reached for his goblet. He'd just taken a sip when his gaze happened upon Merlin at the end of the knights' table. He spluttered, coughed, and set the goblet back down. "W-hat…Merlin?"

Gwen followed his gaze and her face lit up. Three women were huddled at the end of the table, giggling, and although more than one knight attempted to interject and draw their attention, they were clearly focused on Merlin, who was speaking in an animated way and grinning from ear to ear.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked and Arthur heard the restrained humor in her tone.

He gestured weakly. "He's a servant…and an idiot most of the time."

Gwen grasped his arm, leaning closer to speak privately. "And handsome."

Arthur glanced at her incredulously. "He's a beanstalk with ears too big for his head."

"And finely shaped cheekbones, dark hair, pretty blue eyes, not to mention a heart of gold."

Arthur stared at his manservant, eyes narrowed trying to spot any of what she claimed.

"He's more attractive than you realize."

Arthur looked back at her. "Did you…" He motioned at Merlin.

"We've never been more than friends, but I did notice."

Arthur blinked in shock.

"You tease him so much you can't see him for who he really is." She drank from her own goblet, then frowned. "Oh, dear."

Arthur turned back to Merlin. Another woman had showed up and he groaned aloud. "Lady Albrade." He rose from his seat.

* * *

Merlin raised his chin confidently as the women in front of him giggled at another of his stories. This one had been about Arthur and the donkey ears, and when a hand clamped down on his shoulder and he looked up to behold his king scowling at him, his stomach plummeted.

"I think you've had enough wine, Merlin." Arthur hauled him upwards by the collar of the red coat. He stumbled over the bench, trying to excuse himself as Arthur dragged him out a side door and didn't stop until they reached a short corridor. He threw him at a window and Merlin caught himself on its sill.

"I didn't mean to," he asserted in his defense. "It just came out!"

Arthur tilted his head. "Didn't mean to what?"

Merlin gestured with a thumb back down the hall. "The story…about…never mind."

"Do you know _who_ you were talking to, or were you so dazzled by their glorying of your person your brain ground to a halt?"

"Eh…I think…" Merlin rubbed at his forehead. "Lady Giselle, Lady Lilura, Lady Vesta, and…one more…"

"Lady Albrade." Arthur's eyes smoldered.

Merlin's mouth morphed slowly into a wide grin. "You're jealous."

"What?"

"Of all the attention I'm getting."

"Please."

"You want them to fawn over you even though you're a _married_ man."

"I don't want their attentions any more than you do."

"Who says I don't want them?"

"Lady Albrade is a married woman whose last lover was challenged to single combat by her husband and has been buried less than a year."

Merlin gulped and blinked.

"And if I hadn't hauled your ass out of there, she would have been running a finger over your _fine_ cheekbones and you'd be dead before morning." Arthur sighed loudly. "You aren't cut out to attend a feast. You're safest at my beck and call."

"I have fine cheekbones?" Merlin smirked.

"No, yes, Gwen said so."

Merlin pursed his lips to contain his laughter.

"Oh, come on, Merlin. You're a scrawny dolt. You know it and I know it and no amount of fancy clothes is going to make up for it."

"And all those women?"

"They…just…find flirting with a servant a thrill."

"Erm…sure."

"Forget it. Take the night off. And get out of those ridiculous clothes."

Merlin glanced down at himself. "I rather like them now." He leaned smugly against the recess of the window.

Arthur exhaled loudly and moved to brace his shoulder on the other side. "I suppose this will all go to your head now and you'll be demanding all kinds of allowances. Days off to celebrate your newfound popularity."

Merlin chuckled. "You _are_ jealous."

"I am not—"

"Of my time."

Arthur snorted.

"I don't care about any of them, Arthur. I'm your man, first, now, and always."

Arthur stared warily. "That sounds a little…"

"Girly?"

Arthur raised a hand in confirmation.

"Why? The knights declare their loyalty all the time."

Arthur turned uncomfortably, gazing out the window. They were quiet for a time until Arthur gathered his thoughts. "Truth is, Merlin, you're the most loyal man I know. You have few skills, hardly can put one foot in front of the other, and still you insist on following me everywhere and saying stupid things like I'm destined to be Albion's greatest king."

"Because it's true."

"Because you're Merlin." Arthur ran a hand over his face. "I hadn't said thank you. For the speech and the sword and fighting against Morgana and taking care of Gwen." He cleared his throat.

"My pleasure."

Arthur snorted again and looked sideways at him. "It really is, isn't it?"

Merlin shrugged.

"Modesty doesn't become you after the display back there." Arthur pushed back to a stand. "If it's any consolation, you _might_ find a girl someday willing to put up with you."

"She'd have to put up with both of us."

"Like Gwen."

Merlin nodded.

"Truly, Merlin. You find a girl like my wife, and you'll have my blessing."

Merlin brightened. "Let's get back then."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

* * *

The next day, Merlin wearily rose, bleary eyed from various spirits and an overabundance of rich food. He splashed water into his face from his washbasin, forcing his eyes open. Today marked the first day of his service to the king _and_ his new queen. He stumbled to his chest to procure fresh clothing. He stopped when he beheld a folded, darkly red garment resting on its lid. He frowned. Hadn't he handed the padded coat off to Arthur after the feast, along with the knee-high boots? He spied a tiny piece of parchment on top of the coat, picked it up, and flipped it open with a thumb to see Arthur's handwriting.

 _Keep it. It's your only hope._

Merlin laughed aloud.


End file.
